THE MUSTANG

Despite not having many public appearances, the Marshall service had a unique relationship with the local community. Just at the edge of town, there was a quiet and reserved hospital and hospice care center for the elderly. Here, remnants from years past. From wars past. There were no ghosts, but the walking dead, and mortally wounded were left here. Left to burn under the sun as humanity slowly crawled away from the old wars that spanned the African, and Eurasian continents.

Amongst silenced officers, and scarred enlisted, those that found themselves in between the forces of forgotten medals and honored intentions found their sanity chipping away. The constant screams, crying, and falling morale was unlike anything the regular man could hope to prepare for.

As an outside entity, the Marshall service saw this place as death.

Less than an hour away, traffic clogged on highway 84 kept Amelia Violet locked in a dazed dream. Her mind wandering far away from her body as the slow fields passed.

The only people that witnessed her listlessness were the other three trapped in the car alongside her.

Her current residency was just outside of Caldwell and provided a comfortable distance from the office. However, due to her proximity and experience within the city and surrounding population, she was often saddled with outreach responsibilities. Something that, although was important, wasn't at the top of the agencies concerns. How many people had she met? Her last escapade took her out to Huston high school, almost an hour west of Nampa. When not assigned to a case, she ended up finding herself dealing with the reveling and annoying children of Idaho. Though the pressure was present from her superiors; to make the best first impression, she enjoyed the more rambunctious moments with the children.

Time and time again their cries were drowned out by the steady tempo of gunfire. Still, even with her proficiency with a rifle, shotgun, and pistol, it was always magic that captured her practicality. Nullification: one other held such power...

When was it again...? Her power had sprung early in her teenage years. Once nothing more than constant studies and musical talent to stir her ability to take over the conglomerate her family was in control of, it was the awakening of her magic that turned the course of her life. From a trumpet, to casting melodies through her palms. Half-notes, breaks, and choruses were exchanged for suspects and criminals.

Until that day she had spent her entire life all the same: She went out to perform beyond the capabilities of the average woman. And after that day? The expectations grew. Inhuman, that was what she was to become within the world of private ventures and unyielding magic. Hours, days, months, years. Time dragged her against the asphalt.

"—a"

Even if she had any desires left, she only believed that this life was it. Amelia had questions, but to seek answers would jeopardize everything.

"...Amelia"

Why would she change?

"Hey, Amelia."

Shuddering as the winter snow slammed against her body, Amelia looked up to see Public Affairs Officer Miranda Young. The PAO was standing just outside of her car door making a puzzled expression. This was the first time she had seen Mirana like this. It didn't make any sense why she seemed inquisitive.

"Ma'am?"

"Amelia... You've never been so quiet before." Miranda said leaning on the door.

A path of footprints emerged from the left of the vehicle, moving away from the entrance.

"Showtime. Let's go."

The Chief Branch Officer of the Marshall Officer, Michal Wall, adjusted his winter coat. His greying hair reflected the white light, and he brushed loose snow form his arm. The atmosphere around the agents grew thin. Amelia found it hard to breathe as Chief Wall moved away from the vehicle.

Flanking his sides, Amelia, Miranda, and Agent David Sanchez shuffled through the growing snow of late 2122.

At the primary entrance to the building, Chief Wall placed his bare hand on the frozen metal as he pulled it open. It took a fair amount of effort from the old man—yet the marks in the snow yielded and allowed him to enter. Upon entering he let out a heavy breath.

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From the blistering cold, Amelia's breath was clearly visible. She embraced the contrasting; boiling building as light sweat began to form on her body. Stripping herself of the heavy pea coat she had, Amelia practically stood bare: nothing but her form fitting suit complimented by a 9mm handgun adorning her right hip, the top of the weapon hidden by her blazer.

"Sir, are we still on time?"

"Yeah, sorry for the wait." Miranda chirped.

"We're good... don't mention it."

Wearing a thin smile, Wall turned around and led the three towards the second entrance leading to an auditorium. Amelia, and Miranda followed closely behind him, while Agent Sanchez trailed behind.

Before they reached a set of doors, an elderly man stood to the side, adjusting his plaid shirt and brown trousers. He wasn't elegant by any means. He looked like the typical farmer type that you would find in rural Idaho. And though he was by appearance, the only thing that set him a part was a black baseball cap that had three words embroidered on the top: OPERATION SILVER STRIKE.

Chief Wall scrunched his face, "Lieutenant General Nicholas Hoover."

"I don't wear the uniform anymore." The old man huffed.

"Yeah, not since Pakistan. Are they still treating your cancer?"

"It's stable, but you agency types should know that already."

Through he glass doors Amelia could see a collection of elderly patients and a handful of attending nurses all waiting for their arrival. Holding her breath, General Hoover stepped to the side and held the horizontal handles on the doors. He pushed them open and stepped inside the room. Slowly tracing his footsteps, Amelia as last in the room...

The doors behind her slammed...

Waving her hand, Amelia's voice was soft, "I didn't think you were one to smoke."

Amongst the snow, the citizens of Idaho began to celebrate the Christmas season. Decorations, lanterns, and beautiful lights were strung for the Holy holiday.

Were it not for the corpse surrounded by county Sheriffs, it would've been a perfect night.

"He's an old fashion guy," Chief Wall murmured as he dragged another puff of his cigar. "You don't see guys like him every day."

Amelia remained silent as she turned to the corpse.

Master Gunnery Sergeant Kyle Silverstone was dead. He had died from a gunshot wound to the temple.

A point-blank cavitation... The blood had long dried, but it ruined his cardigan and sleek brown trousers. The blue tie he wore was stained with crimson liquid; its shine came from the moonlight shinning upon the town.

As the criminal investigators and forensic scientist arrive on scene, Amelia, and Chief Wall saw a gray Toyota Corolla come to a swift stop nearby.

Alex rushed over to the scene, throwing a deep-blue jacket over his shirt. "Lia, Chief. What's going on?"

"Lia, really?" The blonde agent asked, amused.

Alex flashed a toothy grin before he turned his attention to the corpse. He scratched the itchy 5'O clock shadow that had grown on his face after the workday. His dark brown hair was roughly combed, done in a haste to look presentable. The rest of his clothing was substandard. Nothing more than an olive drab button down, blue jeans, and brown work boots.

"So, what are we looking at?" He asked.

"Pedestrians got spooked when they hear an 'explosion'," Chief Wall grumbled. "First responders were firefighters that were here for the parade. You two go take a date and find them." Patting Alex on the shoulder, their superior casually walked through the snow and disappeared behind several abandoned vendor stalls.

Lowering his gaze, Alex felt his eyebrow raise as he eyed the 5'10 blonde beside him.

"So, Lia, huh?" Amelia sheepishly said. She folded her hands behind her back as she faced away from the Deputy and slowly wandered off towards the cordoned section which local police had turned into their outpost. Brushing most of her golden hair into a side plait. The cops and paramedics securing the scene watched her with weary eyes as she cut through the command tent.

To the front of the command tent, a local precinct sergeant remained hunched over his phone, "Now listen here, I already got them sheriffs up my ass, and the last thing I want to do is hand this over to the God damn feds." Looking up from his phone, the man cursed as he hung up.

"Do I need to identify myself?" Amelia sheepishly asked, understanding the bad reputation her type brought.

The sergeant let out a low chuckle, "For paperwork, yes ma'am."

Fishing for ID, Amelia handed it for to the police sergeant.

"Hm?" The man looked up at her, "Not bad."

"At least we're not the FBI, if that helps."

Letting out a laugh, the sergeant grabbed his cup of piping hot coffee and motioned for Amelia and the rest to follow. "Right. Anyways sweetheart, if ya'll going to be taking over this case, meet the prime witness." He turned the corner of the table and stepped to the side.

Sitting in a metallic chair drinking his own cup of coffee, an African American man with a clean shaved head and a squared away mustache looked up at Amelia with an eyebrow raised.

"Zach, this is Amelia Violet, US Marshalls. Amelia, this is Zachary Johnson, one of our local firefighters that work at station 15."

"Lia—you look like hammered shit." Zachary said downing the rest of his coffee.

Both Chief Wall and Alex looked at each other with suspicion.

"You two are acquainted?" Alex questioned, curiously.

Amelia silently gazed upon Zachary. Her eyes drifted to the deep-cutting scar that adorned his chest, the top of it only being visible at the tip of his shirt collar. It wasn't the only one he had, multiple wounds covered his arms, and perhaps more were hidden beneath his clothes.

"We've known each other since high school." Zachary cooly answered, "I remember when you were just an ordinary bookworm, Lia."

"You don't have to remind me."

Chief Wall enjoyed the display; however, he needed his agent to business, "Sir, I appreciate your cooperation with local law enforcement in light of the murder, however there are some extenuating circumstances, and I would have to kindly request that you come with us to our office."

"Hold on partner—"

"I require my lawyer to be present." Zachary declared interrupting the sergeant.

"Every single time..." Alex murmured.

Zachary smiled to that.